


Restraint

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bondage, Cock Rings, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rufus is lassoed, discovers what Kiefer's partying is like, and gets tied up. :D Based during the filming of Dark City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I know I'm going to hell for this. This is purely a work of fiction, I do not know either of these amazing actors or make any money from this and this never actually happened ever in any universe or represents real events in any way and I mean no disrespect I'M SO SORRY. *goes to hell*

It was a little strange, seeing Kiefer Sutherland off the set, while we were filming Dark City. Part of it was seeing him drop character - standing tall, speaking normally, even the way he held himself was different. We'd done screen tests together, of course, and readings, but there still seemed to be a noticeable shift between when he was Kiefer and when he was Schreber. It impressed and intrigued me all at the same time, that he was able to switch it on and off in a way that was seemingly so easy, and how good he was at being in character. I'd seen a number of his movies and was well aware of his talent, of course. But it was much different to actually work with him, to see it in person.

Turning a character on or off was never that easy for me. I always had John Murdoch halfway in the back of my head - the feeling of the character, his thoughts and motivations, many of the details and characteristics I'd hashed out with Alex Proyas. Perhaps part of me thought I might lose him, if I let go of him completely.

Perhaps the strangest thing I encountered about Kiefer Sutherland off set, though, was seeing him at his trailer, still in a three piece suit, full makeup and antique style glasses, twirling a lasso. I paused to regard the strange sight curiously from a distance, remembering warnings I'd heard from the crew about him lassoing people. Then I shrugged, and continued on my way, only to hear his voice behind me. "Hey, Rufus!"

I half turned - none too soon - finding a rope looped tight around my biceps and chest. He still held the other end, grinning, and gave a light tug. I couldn't help but laugh. "Nice aim."

"I've been getting better," he replied, still grinning - a warm, easy smile completely unlike the twitchy nervous one I was used to seeing him give as Schreber. "Though after I tripped up that poor crew member I've stopped aiming for the feet. Come here and I'll get you out of that." He gave a gentle tug on the rope, and I did as he asked without question, suddenly distracted by the thought that there was definitely worse things that could happen than to be tied up by Kiefer Sutherland. I probably could have wriggled enough to easily loosen the lasso myself, but it was much nicer to let myself be fussed over just a little, watching nimble fingers tug at the rope, then pull it back over my head. He caught my gaze for a moment as he did, a little contemplatively, as if trying to read what I wasn't saying. Or perhaps he just wanted to make sure I wasn't angered by the capture. Whatever he saw, he merely smiled again, and patted my shoulder. "There. Right as rain."

"If you're this kind to all your captives, maybe I should let you lasso me more often," I joked, realizing belatedly how suggestive it was, and hoping it wouldn't seem too intentional.

He just laughed, stepping back and starting to work the rope again, eyes not leaving mine. "Maybe I will."

We were both called back to film at that, and I put the conversation out of my mind, easing back into being Murdoch and talking like an American. He was Schreber again the next time I saw him, the playful confidence replaced by nerves and a strangely cute skittishness, by strained smiles and breathless, broken speech. I couldn't have played the role, I found myself thinking. Not like he did.

We were filming one of the later scenes of the movie that day, something that required me to be strapped into some strange metal wheel construction, stretched out on my back spread eagle with my hands and feet tightly bound, surrounded by actors in bald caps and leather dresses. It seemed a little bit BDSM, it occurred to me, and I almost broke character to laugh at that thought.

The last strap went over my forehead, fastened deftly and carefully by Kiefer during filming, who stood over me. It held me entirely immobile, so that the only things I could see were the lights and cameras above me, and Kiefer standing over me. It made me feel slightly anxious, and I tried to channel that into Murdoch, trembling and gasping as we played out the injection scene. I heard Proyas yell for a cut though, and could only lay still and stare up at the cameras as I waited for the next take, trying to breathe calmly.

One of Kiefer's hands still rested on my chest, waiting to tuck the glass and copper prop syringe back into my pocket for the next take. His other hand touched my cheek gently, leaning over me a little so I could see him better. "Are you all right?" Breathless, soft. Schreber's voice.

I kept my American accent and forced a smile, trying to joke around. "I'll be okay, doc. You can't be much more comfortable than I am at the moment." It was true - they had him closed into some strange kind of mobile cage made of painted aluminum that wardrobe affectionately referred to as the Iron Dress, and it wasn't the lightest or most comfortable thing in the world by far.

"I'm not the one who is -- all tied up," he replied, with a little hint of a smile. He ran his fingertips along my skin at the edge of the leather strap, and suddenly I was having very un-Murdoch-like thoughts that definitely involved being all tied up, and also finding out what that voice, which could somehow be breathy and beautifully throaty all at the same time, would sound like when he was -

"From the top," I heard Proyas call out, and I dragged my mind back to the task at hand, trying very hard to forget any and all thoughts that involved shagging Kiefer Sutherland.

~~

Kiefer was in make-up when I staggered in later that evening, having the latex prosthetic over his eye carefully removed. He waved in my direction as I entered. "Hey, Rufus. You should come out with us this evening."

"Out?" I sat down and slathered my face in cold cream, then started to wipe away makeup. "It's ten at night."

"I know," he replied, "And we have a very rare morning off tomorrow. A bunch of the crew are going out to a local pub, you should come and unwind."

I pondered the idea for a few moments. Sleep had been the highest priority on my list, but the filming schedule was very tight, and there likely wouldn't be another chance to go out on the town until we were done. "Sure," I replied. "Thanks."

Half an hour later found us seated in what proved to be a very welcoming, cozy pub, talking over a pint as various members of cast and crew arrived in twos and threes. Kiefer nodded greetings to a few of them, but seemed more interested in talking with me for the time being. "I know this is going to sound really weird," he said at one point, with another one of his infections grins, "but I'm really not used to the British accent."

I laughed, taking a drink. "I can pretend to be American if you like."

"No, no. I'm just impressed, that's all. Accents are hard, but you do it so well. You never slip up."

I chuckled, pleased at the praise. "It's a survival tactic, I'm afraid."

"Survival tactic?"

"If you can only sound British, you'll only ever be cast as British," I replied with a chuckle. "You get used to it."

He gave a little understanding nod. "Still, you're very good at it."

"And you're far better than I am at jumping in and out of character," I returned. "So we're even. I love what you've done with him, by the way."

His answering smile was modest, almost bashful, and undeniably adorable. "Thank you."

"You... your character is very endearing," I found myself continuing, and he looked up at me with a little curious smile.

"A crippled mad scientist?"

I laughed softly. "You bring a vulnerability to the role that not many could. It gives Schreber so much more depth than I saw in him when I first read the screenplay."

"Thank you," he said again, still just as quietly pleased as before. "I have a bit more to work with than the rest of you, though."

"I suppose," I thought about the script. "I'm not very nice to you, am I?" I mused, laughing as he gave me a questioning look. "Murdoch, I mean. He's a bit of an ass."

Kiefer shrugged. "I don't know if you can really say that. Schreber doesn't exactly inspire confidence. For all Murdoch remembers, he could be his greatest enemy, or his best friend."

"Or something else?" I suggested, my mind moving, unbidden, to the thought of a blonde and a brunette entangled in a lover's embrace.

"Or anything," Kiefer agreed, thankfully unaware of where my thoughts had gone. "That's the beauty of the story." He eyed me thoughtfully as he took a drink. "How do you think they'd end up, after everything's said and done?"

I resisted the urge to make wishful jokes about shagging. "Hmm. I think they'd both play it cool, for a while. Maybe Schreber would open a practice, to monitor some of the people, or be in a better position to help out if something went wrong and people started remembering. Murdoch would pretend to be normal for sure, maybe settle down with Anna. But he'd come find you eventually. He'd be too isolated otherwise, without anyone around him that could understand what he is. He'd need you."

He gave a little smile, seeming pleased with the answer. "It's interesting to think about it, isn't it? I think they would need each other, in some way. Maybe they'd balance each other out." He drained his glass, and stood. "I need another, you coming?"

The rumours of what Kiefer was like when drunk were not, I discovered, understated. He didn't become any less himself - the kind thoughtfulness was still there, and he was still unfailingly polite - the Canadian influence, I thought with a smirk. But it was like every care in the world had fallen from his shoulders, and every inhibition was thrown away. More and more of the cast and crew trickled in, and several hours and several more drinks later I found myself with his arm around my shoulders as he joined a number of the crew in a rousing rendition of what John from costume informed me was a very well-respected Australian drinking game.

"Here's to Rufus, he's true blue! He's a piss pot through and through! He's a bastard so they say - tried to go to Heaven but he went the other way! Drink it down!"

I laughed, shaking my head, but chugged the rest of my beer as urged, gasping for breath. It was nice to unwind, I reflected, to let myself get caught up in the tipsy warm feeling of being slightly drunk, in the light and laughter around me. Someone handed another beer to Kiefer, and I joined in as they started up again. "Here's to Kiefer, he's true blue!"

"You have a nice voice," he told me with a smile once the beer was gone.

I laughed and shook my head. "My mother kept trying to get me into musical theatre, but it's not my style. Thanks for inviting me out tonight, this is a lot of fun."

Kiefer gave a slow nod, and as he watched me speak, his eyes narrowed slightly, dark with an emotion that I couldn't quite place. Then he grabbed my arm. "All right guys, I promised Proyas I'd have our leading man home at a decent hour. Drink up and have a blast!"

"You did?" I asked, puzzled, but he grinned and ignored me, bidding goodbye to the crew and exchanging a few one-armed hugs without letting go of mine. I found myself caught up in a number of drunken embraces myself, but eventually we were outside and he was bundling me into a cab, giving the driver the address of the studio. I glanced to him with a curious smile. "That's not home."

"I know," he replied with a little smile, and something about the dark look still in his eyes made me shiver despite myself. "I left something there. I hope you don't mind?"

I shook my head wordlessly, watching as he paid the cab driver, then following him out of the car and toward the studio. He spoke briefly with the security guard, giving him the same explanation, and we were let in without question. It was, I reflected, the only time I'd seen the studio entirely dark and quiet, and it seemed strangely empty to me.

We headed towards the trailers, then detoured at the last minute, and Kiefer lead me to an emergency exit for one of the studios. There was no handle on the outside, but as he eased the door open with his fingertips, I could see that the lock had been taped over with a piece of electrical tape, keeping the door open. I looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow, feeling my pulse race and trying to tell myself that there were a million reasons to be here that didn't have to do with shagging. "I thought you said you forgot something."

"In a round about way," he replied, still with that little smile playing about his lips. Really, really nice lips, I couldn't help but think. He tilted his head slightly. "You coming?"

The studio was lit only with a few safety lights, just enough to keep from tripping over anything, to see the outline of his form ahead of me in the darkness. He seemed completely sure of himself, and part of me wasn't at all surprised when he stopped beside the big metal wheel we'd used in filming.

Kiefer turned to me, and I could just see him well enough to watch the tip of his tongue flick over his lips, watch his gaze move slowly down my body, promising. Then he spoke again, voice low and husky, sending a shudder of arousal down my spine. "Lean back against the wheel."

I hesitated for a moment, not quite believing that this was happening. "Just tell me this isn't some practical joke."

"No," he replied, smile widening, and he stepped forward, reaching up to run his fingers along my jaw, thumb brushing against my lips teasingly. "I won't leave you tied up here. I promise."

I managed a little nod, then did as he asked, letting him pull my wrist out to the restraint. He kissed the inside of my wrist softly before buckling the leather strap around it, then placed another warm kiss to the palm of my hand. He repeated the action with my other arm, then stopped, standing in front of me and resting his hands lightly on my hips. "I've been wanting to do this since this afternoon," he admitted, his blue eyes all pupil in the dim light. "I think you wanted it too, didn't you?"

"Yes," I half gasped, my breath coming faster just from his words, heart pounding so loud in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

"Good," he murmured, with a little smirk. "So, the question is, who would you rather sleep with? Me, or Schreber? Your choice."

"You," I said automatically, a shiver running through me at the thought. Then I regarded him curiously. "Why, have you had people say the opposite?"

He leaned in with a soft chuckle, lips brushing my neck, and nipped at the skin. "You'd be surprised at some of Jason Patrick's kinks."

I gave a soft laugh despite myself, tilting my head back for him and moaning softly as his lips nuzzled a warm path up my neck and along my jaw. It seemed an eternity of agony and longing, but finally those well shaped lips found mine. I melted under the heat of his kisses, sucking and nipping at his lips and tongue, drinking in the taste of warmth and alcohol and Kiefer. He pressed against me without restraint, body warm and strong and pushing me back against the cool metal behind me. I couldn't help but moan as his hands slipped up under my t-shirt to stroke hungrily over my bare skin, rubbing up my sides and over my chest. It drove any remaining thoughts of restraint out of my mind, and I arched against him as much as I could, wishing my hands were free to embrace him as he was me.

As if sensing my longing, Kiefer drew back with another teasing smile, leaving the only point of contact as his hand resting low on my stomach, thumb tracing small circles over my bare skin just above the line of my jeans. "It's a little surprising," he said softly, "how easy it is to figure out someone's kinks if you know how to look. It took me a little longer than expected with you. At first I thought it might be role play, just from the way you watched me on set. But today left no doubt in my mind." He arched up to nuzzle my jaw again, breath warm against my ear as he spoke, as his hand shifted slowly downwards, just barely brushing against my erection through my jeans. "Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you. I'm going to take these off, and then I'm going to finish tying you up here. I'm going to suck you off, and then I'm going to take you back to the hotel, tie you to the bed and fuck the hell out of you."

"Yes," I had whimpered an agreement almost before he finished speaking, trying to arch into his touch. He chuckled softly, appreciatively, then caught my mouth again, kisses breathless and demanding as he yanked my trousers undone. I shifted just enough to toe off my shoes, gasping as my jeans and undershorts were yanked down my thighs with very little finesse. The studio was cool, almost chilly on my heated flesh, and it made me shiver as he dropped to his knees, helping me off with my jeans, then guiding my feet up onto the wheel's foot rests to be buckled tightly to the metal - first one, and then the other. His fingertips stroked my calf slowly, and when I glanced down, I could see him looking up at me, sitting back on his heels.

"How does that feel?"

I tugged against the bonds, which held true, and felt a shiver run through me at the feeling of being restrained, mostly naked here and entirely at his mercy. The leather wasn't uncomfortable, but the straps were strong, and bit into my skin as I pulled at them. Tight. Helpless. "It's good," I managed to reply, voice coming out roughly, and I saw him smile in the dim light. He leaned in to press his lips to the inside of my knee, kisses travelling slowly up my thigh, almost tantalizingly tender. "Kiefer...."

He glanced up at me with a smirk, hands stroking slowly up and down the outside of my thighs. "The head strap stays off," he said calmly, as if I didn't have a choice in the matter. "I want you to watch me do this, watch me do whatever I want to you, and you won't be able to do anything about it. You want to watch."

"I do," I replied, drawing a sharp breath as his lips ghosted over my erection, barely nuzzling the sensitive flesh. "God - !" I gasped, and tried to arch into his touch, but the footrests were shallow - just enough to hook my heel into, and it felt precarious to move. "Please?"

For a moment, I could only feel his breath, a shivering tease against my skin. Then he moved in to bury his face at the base of my cock, breathing in deep, fingers curling around my hips to press me back against the metal as his tongue flickered gently over the sensitive skin. One hand slipped between my thighs to cup my sack, and the slow drag of his tongue up the underside of my erection drew a shuddering groan from my throat. Teasing, thank god, seemed to be finished now, and he took the head of my cock in his mouth with a groan that echoed mine, beautifully throaty, sending vibrations of sensation through me. "Fuck - !"

I couldn't determine if it was the restraints that made everything feel so intense, or his skill - and frankly, I didn't care. I was lost in the feel of his mouth sucking at me hungrily, tongue working against me as I watched my cock slide between those beautiful lips. His other hand had moved to encircle the base of my erection, stroking what his mouth didn't reach, and the hand that was cupping my balls shifted slightly, the backs of his knuckles rubbing against the sensitive skin behind them, almost making me come right there and then.

"Kiefer - " I gasped helplessly, and thankfully the hand on my sack slipped away, stroking up over my chest instead. My t-shirt ended up pushed up around my armpits as he stroked over my skin, hand broad and strong as he rubbed against my skin before toying with my nipples almost teasingly. Then two fingers moved up to press to my mouth, stroking my bottom lip, and I caught them between my lips with a low groan. It made it easier to hold still and calm down, to focus my attention on something other than what he was doing to me, sucking on his fingers wetly and enjoying the feel of them against my lips and tongue. The combination of sensation was intense - his fingers against my lips, his mouth hot and wet and eager on my cock, moaning around me, and the strain that was beginning to build up in my arms from being restrained. It all lead to an insistent build of arousal that threatened to bring this to an end much more quickly than I wanted it to be.

His fingers pulled from my lips all too soon, and before I knew it they were pressed back between my thighs, stroking slick against the sensitive pucker of nerves, pressing against my opening. I gave a choked cry, feeling a fingertip press carefully inside me just as he took my cock deep into his throat, a rush of sensation that almost pulled me over the edge. "Please," I gasped, inadvertently yanking at the straps as my body jerked tense under the onslaught. "God, Kiefer - going to make me...!"

Kiefer's only response was a low, approving moan, his finger carefully working deeper as he continued to work his mouth on me. My hands twisted, and managed to get hold of the metal bars of the wheel, clenching tight as I shuddered helplessly against him. His finger crooked, just ever so slightly, teasing inside me with a little twist that left me seeing white, all self control gone as I cried out helplessly and spilled into his mouth, every nerve in my body overwhelmed with bliss.

When my mind began to function again, he'd unbuckled my ankles and stood, nuzzling my jaw as warm hands stroked soothingly over my hips. He pressed a warm kiss to my cheekbone, then moved to unbuckle one wrist. "Beautiful," he remarked, low and approving and throaty, rubbing my wrist gently and pressing a kiss to the skin before releasing it.

"Thank you," I breathed, though I meant it more for what he'd done than unstrapping me. "That was... you were... wow." I watched him unbuckle the strap on my other wrist, my mind still reeling with the knowledge that I'd just been tied up and blown on set by Kiefer, of all people. It certainly wasn't a complaint, though. "May I...."

"Put your pants back on? Yes you may," he replied with a smile, stepping back.

"No," I tried, reaching for my pants anyway. "I mean - I want to do something for you...."

"Later," Kiefer replied, and gave a little smirk, seeming entirely calm with the prospect of waiting. "As soon as you feel like you can walk again, we can go back to the hotel."

There was a cab outside the front gate when we got outside, and I half wondered if it had somehow been waiting for us. I climbed into the cab with him, my legs feeling just a little like jello, but very, very glad I had decided to go out that night. And if Kiefer had anything to say about it, I was sure that we were just getting started.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time we returned to the hotel, almost an hour had past since we left the pub. I felt significantly more sober, and worried a little that Kiefer would change his mind about all this. He seemed languid and relaxed, though, looking out the window as we drove and humming low under his breath, his fingertips slowly teasing up and down the side of my thigh. I paid the cabbie and followed him into the hotel, almost bumping into him when he stopped suddenly in front of the elevators.

He turned back to me with a grin that looked almost mischievous. "Wait right here for me, I'll be right back. Two minutes."

I laughed and shrugged. "Okay?"

"Two minutes," he repeated, backing away. "Don't move." Then he darted off around the corner back to the hotel lobby, and I leaned up against the wall, watching after him with a little fond smile. What a character.

When Kiefer returned - not much more than two minutes later, it was with a mostly full bottle of red Sourpuss in one hand and a couple of shot glasses in the other. He looked so damn pleased with himself that I couldn't help but laugh, hitting the button for the lift. "We're drinking?"

"Of course," he replied, following me into the elevator, glancing up at the security camera thoughtfully. "The night's still young, after all." I followed him to his hotel room, half wondering if I was going to survive the drinking to have more sex. He leaned his ass against the card reader outside his door with a little smirk to unlock the door, then pushed it open, taking me inside. The table lamp beside the bed was already on, and he wandered over to hit the switch above it that turned on the pot lights in the ceiling, making the room warm and inviting. "Here we are. Home sweet home."

It wasn't much different than my hotel room, other than being rather more messy and having a guitar in the corner. I nodded to it. "Do you play?"

"Hm?" Kiefer had set the shot glasses down on the desk and was filling them. He followed my gaze. "Oh, no. Well, not very well, in any case. I love music, which means I leave it to the professionals." A chuckle, and he handed me a glass. "To Proyas and his crazy movie."

I laughed, toasting him, but staring at the glass as he shot his back. "What is this, anyway?"

I watched him swallow, a shudder running through him as he did so that was almost obscene. He gave a little appreciative moan, then looked back at me. "Sourpuss? You've never had it? Just shoot it back. It goes straight to your cock."

"What?" I gave a surprised laugh at his words and expectant grin, but gave my head a little shake and tossed back the red liquor. It was incredibly sour, just bearable, and the tartness hit me in a rush as I swallowed, a shiver of sensation that burned through my body. I set the glass down, gasping, suddenly understanding his erotic little shudder. "Bloody hell -!"

"I told you it was good." Kiefer laughed, pouring another round and handing me the glass.

I shook my head again and took it from him. "You don't have to get me plastered to get me into bed, you know," I told him, but he just grinned.

"I know," he replied, clinking his shot glass to mine. "Cheers."

The second shot was no less intense than the first, and I could feel the tingling warmth pool in my limbs. "Kiefer, I'm not sure I can keep up with you." I stared helplessly as he refilled the glasses a third time, but he just chuckled, reaching up to brush his thumb against my lips affectionately.

"You're doing fine," he said with a smile, and shot back the drink. I took my own and hesitated, regarding it warily for a moment, then was hit with a sudden solution. I took half the contents of the glass in my mouth as he finished his, then stepped forward to press my lips to his, tangling fingers in the front of his t-shirt to hold him in place. Kiefer gave a little interested noise, lips parting to mine, and I let a little of the tart liquid dribble into his mouth. I expected surprise and awkwardness and definitely not the way he reacted, surging against me, hand clenching on my hip as he pushed against my mouth. I didn't expect the forceful push of his tongue between my lips, sucking at the alcohol and taking it from me with a low groan, lapping at my lips and tongue.

Kiefer's eyes were dark when he pulled back, voice rough and urgent. "Do that again," he said, abandoning his shot glass in favour of cupping my hips with his hands, pulling me closer. I drained the rest of the glass and bent my head to his again, slipping my fingers up into his hair as I kissed him. Our kisses were hot, wet and sweet-tart as he sucked the liquor from me with a low groan, fingers kneading at my hips. "Oh fuck, that's good," he breathed, arching against me, and I could feel him already half-hard through his jeans, pressed against my thigh.

"More?" I offered softly, and he seemed to consider it for a moment, breathless, then shook his head.

"In a minute," his voice was low and rough, and he stepped back from me, turning to one of the open suitcases that sat at the side of the room. "Take of your clothes and wait for me on the bed."

That, I could do. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and toed off my shoes before dropping trou, leaving everything over the back of the one chair in the room that wasn't already strewn with clothing. He was digging through the suitcase with a little frown, and as I perched on the side of the bed, a bottle of lube landed beside me with a small thump, followed by... a rolled up tie? I heard him give a little triumphant noise, and a small zippered bag landed on the bed as well. Then he claimed the bottle of Sourpuss and set it on the bedside table, eyes running down the length of my body. "Nice to appreciate this when I'm actually allowed to look." He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it in the direction of the suitcase, kneeling half over me and urging me back under him on the bed.

I arched up into him with a sigh, stroking my hands hungrily over his bare chest, over the tattoos on his biceps. "You could have looked on set."

He gave a low chuckle, mouth dropping to kiss hungrily up my neck. "Not appreciatively. It's not that kind of movie."

I couldn't help but laugh at that, grinding up against him with a low moan and stroking my hands down his back, clenching at the denim covered ass. "You're wearing too much."

"Am I?" he drew back to look at me with a little smirk, then glanced to the rolled up necktie that sat on the bed. "I don't recall giving you permission to call the shots."

I drew a soft breath at his words and glanced to the tie. "You're going to wreck that if you tie me up with it."

Kiefer chuckled, claiming it and shaking it out. "Unfortunately I don't carry pantyhose around with me." He leaned in to nip at my bottom lip, finding one of my hands with his own and pulling it up above my head. "It can get wrecked. It'll be worth it," he said, voice husky and promising.

I was squirming under him before I'd hardly realized, more than a little turned on by his weight on top of me and the thought of being tied up again. He cupped the back of my hand with his and laced our fingers together before bringing the palm to his lips, watching me as he kissed slowly down my wrist, tongue flicking against me. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and I drew a sharp breath at the tease, hips rocking up against him. "Kiefer..."

"You're so impatient," he murmured, but his smile was warm and appreciative. He knotted the tie securely around my wrist, then fed one end of the tie around the beam of the headboard, yanking on it to pull my arm above my head, making me gasp and buck under him. "Kinky little thing too, aren't you? Can't wait to be all tied up under me."

I managed a little nod, watching him, feeling almost mindlessly aroused. "Please."

He caught my other arm and kissing my wrist hungrily, then secured it with the other end of the tie. The silk was slick against my skin, almost decadent, and tight enough to remind me of its presence. He shifted to press against my side, trailing kisses slowly down one of my arms, then nuzzling my throat. "Could do whatever I wanted to you right now, couldn't I? And you couldn't do anything... just have to take it...."

I knew he could feel my breath catch and quicken, and I tried to squirm to press my hips to his, receiving a light smack to one ass cheek in punishment before he pulled away. "Behave," he said with a little smirk, retrieving the bottle of sourpuss and taking a swig from it as he regarded me through narrowed eyes. Then he leaned over me with a smirk. "Hold still."

I drew a sharp breath as he tilted the bottle to drizzle the cool liquor onto my chest, shivering despite myself as it trickled over my skin and pooled on my stomach and in the hollow of my throat. He didn't let it rest long, though, his mouth hot against my skin as he bent to lick it away, sucking at my stomach and almost making me laugh as he licked his way up my body. I tilted my head back as he sucked at my throat, shivering at the graze of his teeth. "Your bed," I tried to protest weakly, drawing a sharp gasp as he nipped at the crook of my neck.

"That's what housekeeping is for," he murmured, licking his way up the side of my neck to nip at my earlobe. "Fuck, I love the way you taste."

"Love what you do to me," I breathed, hearing a soft, appreciative noise in reply.

He pushed himself up, looking me over rather appreciatively, then raised the bottle to my lips. "Lets do that thing again."

I grinned, and tilted my head up for him, lips parting to the tart liquid he poured into my mouth and holding it there as he set the bottle aside. Then he was on me again, kissing me hungrily, sucking at my lips and lapping at the liquor in my mouth. His hand stroked over my body almost restlessly, rubbing my thighs before curling around my erection, and I could feel him pressed hard against my thigh, cock straining at his jeans. I rocked up into his touch before I could stop myself, groaning into his mouth and grinding my hip against him as much as I could to encourage more, feeling deliciously helpless to his whims and mindlessly aroused because of it. "Mmmm, god, Kiefer...."

His breath was warm against my mouth, and he pulled back only to claim the bottle again. This time the liquid drizzled over my stomach and thighs, running down the length of my erection, the cool, teasing sensation making me gasp and squirm. His mouth was hot in contrast, licking at my stomach and thighs hungrily to catch every fuchsia drop of liquor. He nuzzled the base of my erection and mouthed at my balls gently, then covered my erection in slow laps, moaning against me as he licked me clean.

"Please," I gasped, just barely managing not to squirm into his mouth. "I'm not going to last long if you keep doing that."

Kiefer's eyes narrowed a little contemplatively as he looked up at me, as if considering the best course of action. Then he moved back up to catch my lips, mouth sweet from the liquor and salty from my skin. "Then I'm going to keep doing that until I get you off," he murmured, nipping at my bottom lip. "Going to make you melt. Then I'm going to fuck you until you're begging me to make you come again."

I drew a sharp breath at his words, rocking up into the hand that encircled my erection again, whimpering. I hadn't expected things to be anything like this, when I'd thought about hooking up with him. I'd shagged coworkers before on other sets - some of them very good, some mediocre - but none that had taken such pleasure in torturing me like this, or the patience to do so. "God, Kiefer, you're going to kill me."

"That's the idea," he said with a soft, promising chuckle, and then proceeded to repeat his previous action with the liquor, his mouth almost maddeningly arousing as he licked over my thighs and sucked gently at my erection. This time when he was done he urged my thighs apart, settling between them, and slowly worked one lubed finger into me as he continued to suck me, groaning low and throaty around me. It was even more intoxicating than it had been on set, and soon enough I was writhing under him, jerking against the ties on my wrists as he worked two fingers in me. His fingertips twisted and teased against my sweet spot just right, free hand knuckling gently at the soft skin behind my balls, and as he took me deep into his throat I felt my body jerk tense, passion cresting uncontrollably quickly. I barely had time to gasp his name before I was coming hard, hands clenched around the ties. The tease of his fingers inside me brought an amazing intensity to it, pulling choked, breathless cries from my throat as I came, and he drew me through it with slow bobs of his head, sucking gently at my cock and not pulling back until I started to soften. My nerves felt almost hypersensitive, but when his fingers pulled away I felt almost empty, and gave a soft whimper of dismay.

Kiefer pressed a soft kiss to my thigh, stroking my hip gently as he looked up at me. "Rufus? You okay?"

I managed a nod, trying to catch my breath. "Keep going. Fuck me."

His smile was pleased, and he pressed a warm kiss to the base of my erection, breathing in deep before pulling away. "Turn over for me," he said, and helped me, the tie that bound my wrists slack enough that I could settle on my knees and elbows, face resting on my forearms. He got up long enough to shuck off the rest of his clothes and grabbed the small zippered bag off the edge of the bed. I could hear the plastic of a rubber wrapper, one of his hands resting on the small of my back, stroking slowly, warm and reassuring. Then it pulled away, and after a moment I heard him choke back a soft groan, breath coming harder.

"Kiefer?"

"Just give me a moment." His reply was a little distracted, but a few moment's later I felt his fingers press inside me again, thick and strong and slick with lube, two scissoring me open before adding a third. It was warm and a little uncomfortable in contrast to the boneless, post-orgasmic relaxation of the rest of me, but I could sense his desire. In spite of it he was so patient with me, and I wanted to please him even more.

"It's good," I managed to gasp, sighing as he pulled away and shifted to kneel behind me, teasing me with the head of his cock. I forced myself to relax as he pushed into me, stretching around the head of his cock and giving a low groan at the pleasure of penetration, the feel of him slowly sliding deeper, the pressure of being filled. "God, that's nice," I managed to breathe, pressing back against him and hearing his breath catch at the sensation. He was incredibly hard inside of me and perfectly thick - just shy of being too much to take, and I found myself thinking that I'd have to see if he'd do this again some time when I was still hard.

He buried himself inside me with a low groan, holding still and leaning over to press a kiss to the back of my neck. There was a strange, hard pressure against me at the base of his erection, but it felt nice, and I tried to rock back against him, giving a little moan at the stimulation. He drew a sharp hiss, breath hot against my neck. "Was going to ask if you're all right, but I'll take that as a yes," he gasped, and started to rock against me just a little, almost grinding, hips flush with my ass. "Tell me if it gets to be too much."

"Sure," I managed to reply, and he knelt up again, strong hands gripping my hips to hold me steady. He pulled back slowly and then eased deep again, letting me feel every inch of his cock, hot and hard sliding inside me. Then he paused for a moment, one hand moving from my hip. I heard - and felt - a low buzzing, stimulation that shuddered through me as he thrust deep again and I suddenly recognized the cock ring for what it was. "Oh!"

"Good?" he gasped, rocking hard against me, and I could only whimper and grind back against him, the vibrations maddening, sending pulses of arousal through me.

"More," I managed to gasp, crying out as he started to move faster in me, shifting with each thrust to just barely rub against my prostate, making me cry out with the white hot shocks of pleasure. Before long my erection was back with a vengeance, and I braced my hands against the slats of headboard ahead of me, partly to push back against his thrusts, partly just to anchor myself against the build of pleasure.

"You're so hot," I heard him gasp, hips bucking a little harder into me, fingers tight on my hips. "Oh fuck, Rufus... so good. Drive me crazy..."

"Yes," I managed to gasp, crying out as our bodies connected just right, my cock hard and aching. "God, harder!"

He paused for just a moment to reach between us, and the vibration intensified. It added to the pleasure as he began to use me hard and fast, leaning over me again to suck and bite at my neck, resting his weight on one arm beside mine. His fingers slipped to curl around my erection, his thumb swiping over the head of my cock that was already slick with precome, then stroking me firmly, fingers gliding warm and quick over my skin. I jerked back against him with a helpless cry, shuddering under the intensity of stimulation. "Oh! God, Kiefer, please - please!"

He was fighting to keep his thrusts measured, breath in gasping, throaty groans against my skin, sounding almost exactly like I'd fantasized he would and at the same time a million times more sexy. "Come on," he gasped, giving a hard thrust and nipping at the crook of my neck. "Show me how good this is for you."

His fingers tightened around me just a little as he bucked hard and almost frantic into me, and I arched back into him as much as I could as I felt myself start to come. My body clenched and shivered helplessly around him as each thrust sent a flood of sensation through me, overwhelming me entirely as I came, crying out into the pillow. His thrusts grew erratic, cries harsh and choked against my skin as he shuddered against me, a flooding warmth inside me.

The vibration was almost painful against sensitive nerves, and he fumbled between us with a little whimper to turn it off before completely relaxing, leaning heavily against my back. "Okay?" he gasped, and I managed a breathless, exhausted laugh.

"Uhhh." I managed to breathe, taking a few more minutes to try and come back to myself. "Wow."

He chuckled softly, nuzzling my neck. "Mmmhmm. Thank you."

I smiled against the pillow. "Oh god, thank -you-. Haven't felt this deliciously well shagged in a very long time. Hands are going numb, though."

"Fuck, right. Here, let me get up off you...."

I managed a little nod, breathing out and forcing myself to relax as he pulled away, sighing softly at the feeling of loss. I heard the rubber hit the trash with a soft thud, and then he sunk down beside me on the bed almost bonelessly, hands tugging at the knots in the knots in the silk until I was free. I managed to shift onto my side, letting him rub my hands with a little thankful sigh, then watched him carefully ease the cock ring off, setting it aside on a tissue on the nightstand.

"That thing was fun," I told him, and he chuckled softly.

"It is, isn't it? And I'll freely admit that you had me so worked up that I would have come in two seconds flat without it." He grinned, running a thumb along my cheekbone. "You want to crash here tonight?"

I nodded. "I don't think I can move. I'm a bloody mess, though."

He chuckled again, leaning in to press a warm kiss to my mouth. "Good, my devious plan was a complete success." He got up, returning a few moments later with a warm wet facecloth that he used to wipe the sticky remains of the sourpuss off my chest and stomach and thighs, then chucked it back through the open bathroom door. He managed to work the equally sticky comforter out from under me along with the sheet, grabbing the spare wool blanket from the closet and tossing it over me with the bed sheet before crawling in with me. He hit the light switch as he did and dimmed the lamp to low, then tugged me close, nuzzling my hair.

"So," I murmured sleepily, nestling my face against his chest. "You tied me up, but you never told me what your kink is."

His answering chuckle was soft, fingers trailing a slow path up and down my spine. "You already know. We did it tonight."

I tried to guess what he meant, smiling a little as I thought back on what we'd done. "Mmm. Blow jobs in a semi-public place?"

He laughed. "No, though I'd definitely do that again. Take another guess."

I thought about the way he'd buckled my hands to the wheel, the tease of his fingers and lips against leather. "Not domination...."

"No, I can go either way with that, depending on the partner." His lips pressed to my hair. "It's actually a bit vanilla, come to think of it. You'd already indulged me just by coming out with me tonight."

"Drinking," I realized suddenly. "Drunken sex."

"Mm-hmm." His arms tightened around me slightly, voice warm and appreciative. "I really liked what you did with the sourpuss, by the way. That was a hell of a thing. Most inventive alcohol kink I've encountered so far. Thanks for indulging me."

I felt an unexpected wave of satisfaction from his words, and kissed the hollow of his throat. "We can do it again sometime, if you like."

"We could... think you'll make it to the wrap party?"

I smiled against his chest. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

~~~~

~Epilogue~

 

We rented out a little bar for the night to hold the wrap party for the movie, everyone buzzed on the elation of the work -or at least, our part of it - finally being done. Kiefer drew attention like he always did, but when I set the dark purple coloured shot down in front of him on the bar with a glass of sprite he stopped mid sentence, glancing down at it then up at me with a little grin. "Hey, thanks. What is it?"

"It's a drop shot. They call it a porn star," I said, trying very hard not to show how very pleased I felt about finding this particular drink recipe. "It's Curaco... and raspberry Sourpuss."

His smirk and answering chuckle could only be described as completely devious, and I felt myself grinning, heart pounding at the promising glance he shot me. Then he grabbed both his shot and mine, dropping them into the sprite and handing me my glass and holding his skyward, starting to lead the crew around us in song. "Oh - here's to Rufus, he's true blue!"

It was definitely going to be another interesting night.

~~~fin!~~~


End file.
